.: day sixteen :.

blanket of sky

I'm looking at the sky right now

I wonder if she looks just as beautiful

from where you're standing.

We're so far apart.

Two different sides of the world,

but at least we're on the same world.

We can both meet half-way anytime.

As long as we're still covered 

by the same blanket of sky.

Mine's often gray from here. What about yours?

I no longer want to be

star-crossed lovers torn by distance

and time and place.

If I could hitch a ride on a shooting star,

I'd be there in a heartbeat.

Wait for me. I'll come for you.

. 27.12.11 hornets and bees .

  The Dream takes place in a normal suburban area and I'm hanging out at the local mall. All of a sudden, hornets were seeing hovering everywhere, attaching themselves to people and stinging them. People panicked and ran amok, stirring up the insects and making the attacks even worse. I was with a friend. A Japanese girl with a cute bob-cut and she didn't seem frightened of the hornets at all. I was frightened but I tried my very best not to panic, knowing it'll hurt more if I did. They were specifically Japanese Giant Wasps. I recognized them from their distinct size and pattern. I got stung on my arms and stomach and it felt like a needle pushing through my flesh. I tried my best not to scream or flail around as my friend helped pluck the hornets off me, and she did it with ease.

  After removing the bugs from my body, I just wanted to find a way out of the mall. My friend, somehow or rather, got hold of a kitchen knife with which she used to fend off the hornets. When they would attach themselves to me again, she'd pluck them with her bare hands and cut them in halves as if she were chopping vegetables. We escaped the hell-hole of a mall while the people around us ran around in a chaotic frenzy, many already dying from overdose of stings.

  The Dream cuts to scene of a man sitting immobile in the dark. I am a Bystander, witnessing the scene before me. He is bound to a chair with a single spotlight above him. He's terrified, trembling; he doesn't know where he is or why he's there. He calls out to the darkness, demanding answers. All that replies are indecipherable voices, or murmurs too soft and too dark for me to understand. But the man understood and his face turned pale. His eyes said that now he knew why he was here, but now he was afraid of the unknown; or what was to come. He was bound – and couldn't escape his gruesome death.

  From the darkness, something stirred. At first it was too soft for either of us to hear. But then we heard the soft buzzing of wings. A shadowy figured separated itself from the blob of surrounding darkness and landed heavily on the man's head. It was a bumblebee, the size of a football. It sat on the man's head for a while, it's black body and dull, yellow stripes making one ridiculous toupee. The man was petrified and dared not move. Fear oozed out of his pores and whimpers followed his quivering lips.

The bee crawled slowly from his temple to the front of his face, sitting right-side up. Its stinger erected, poised and ready; the width as thick as a wooden 2B pencil just sharpened. It grew longer, than shorter, than longer again, as if the bug was deciding which length was more precise. By now the man was begging for his life, but his voice drowned within his fear and inaudible cries escaped his mouth. He knew he shouldn't have left his mouth open but his eyes were clouded and deep inside, he knew it was his end. I couldn't bear to watch. I wanted to so turn my head and look away, but apparently you can't do that when you're a Bystander. With a single thrust, the stinger went through the man's mouth and protruded out the back of his head. The blood was thick as it spilled from his head and mouth, and the bee just lazily flew on its way.

  In the darkness, someone cackled.

One of the most disturbing Dreams I've had recently, and it's about bees and hornets. I'm terrified of them in the sense that I would avoid them at all costs and in any way possible. But I don't encounter them very often. And I'm not saying that I'd like to either...

. 09.10.11 treasure hunters .

  I'm in a team of four. My persona in the Dream was not much different than who I was in real life. There was a cat-human who stood on two legs, and her name was Puss. She was white all over and had a large fluffy tail. Her eyes were crystal blue and she had on an adventure suit of silver and dark grey. Something told me she was the spy of the group. The other animal being in the group was a large mouse we called Dormy (as in dormouse). He was the size of a dog but he was very timid in nature. What he was doing in a group of treasure hunters, I'm still not sure. Lastly, our leader was a grown man, looking his late-twenties, who looked like an all-American hunter. He had large, orange-tint sunglasses, and a cowboy hat. He wore a maroon, plaid, collar shirt with his utility vest and a pair of slacks and tracker boots. He reminded me of the Sniper from the game Team Fortress. I named him Gunner.

  These were the characters, here's the story: We were squeezing into a small entrance of a stoned ruin, buried in sand and mud. The deeper we burrowed into the small tunnel, the deeper we treaded into a level of sludge. The mud-water was thick and I was on all fours, leaning on my elbows and it was reaching my chin. Dormy the mouse was the most unfortunate as he had trouble keeping his head above the sludge. He said something about having to crawl on his belly, and when he had trouble getting air, Gunner took action. The ceiling that was cramming us in was loose and Gunner pushed it upwards, lifting it with his own back, letting the others pass easily and out into a larger corridor. I was still at the front of the troop when we came across a stone wall.

  It looked like a door and I had a feeling that it would open any minute, but I felt an ominous atmosphere the closer I approached it. Before I even touched the stone slab, it slided upwards and revealed to us the next room. It was a plainly large area, brightly illuminated by flaming torches. It was a barren room, everything almost covered in sand and dust. In the middle of the plain room was a crypt, half buried in the sand. Its entrance wide open and staring at us from afar. I felt the disturbing atmosphere again.

  Just then, the stone door drooped down shut, and we heard a thunderous laugh from the other side. Gunner moved to my side cautiously, his hand ready at his holster. I felt a little safer, anticipating what would appear when the door opened again. When it did, the crypt was still empty, but just a few inches from our doorway were two items laid out before us. On the left was a box of matches and on the right was a book, its details I can't recall now. But it had a white cover. Gunner whispered to me, “It wants you to make a choice.”

  “Then... which one's the right one?” I asked him back. Gunner didn't answer. Either he didn't know it, or it was up to me to decide. Cautiously eying the open crypt, the air thick with fear and evil, my trembling hand reached out and grabbed the book. My fingers tight on the object and my body coiled, ready for a quick escape. Puss and Dormy had already retreated to the front of the tunnel, waiting for us to exit. As soon as I pulled my hand back in, the structure shook from the bellowing roar. Immediately my eyes darted to the crypt and in the darkness I stared into a pair of glowing, red eyes.

  I don't know whether we made the wrong choice, or whether it was mad that I made the right one, but we didn't stick around to find out. “GO! GO! GO!” Gunner rushed me, telling me to forget about the book. I flipped through the pages and after realizing the contents were useless, I dropped it. We scrambled through the tunnel, out the exit and into the open, desert plains. There was a gate surrounding the ruins and Puss and Dormy had already made it past. Gunner helped me up and over the gate. He had just made it over the flimsy, metal boundary when the evil spirit charged and rammed into it.

  Luckily, as if like a magical barrier, it didn't do any damage or ram all the way through. From the other side of the gate, I saw the shape of the ominous spirit that guarded the ruins. It was a white hippopotamus with large, red eyes that burned like rubies. That was the end to our first mission.

  On our second mission, it was just me and Gunner and the Dream kind of shows exactly what kind of relationship I had with the male protagonist. I was a teenager of 17, 18 – almost a young adult – and Gunner was my guardian. A drifting treasure/bounty hunter who took me, an orphan girl, as his ward. In the end he taught me all his skills of fighting, and especially handling weapons. That night, after the hippo incident, Gunner gives me my first automatic pistol. He tells me to practice shooting targets using metal cans and I get started right away.

  The Dreams cuts to daytime, and we're riding the back of a jeep, treading through more deserts. We reach a large plateau where I see red rocks and trees together in one environment. Standing atop  the plateau, we discover where the distress calls were coming from. We witnessed dinosaurs running amok, chasing the herbivores and surviving humans around the terrain. The area looked like it was designed to be some kind of zoo. I saw one of their jeeps and I saw the words Jurassic Park. I exclaimed, “God damn, not again.”

  Gunner analysed the situation. Fortunately the dinosaurs hadn't noticed us yet. The only species I remember seeing were the Raptors, running in packs, other two legged predators, but gratefully no T-Rex. They were chasing the plant-eaters, Diplodocus, and other humans trying to escape in their jeeps and motorcycles. I look at Gunner, “I'm going to need a bigger gun than this.” I point at my minuscule pistol. He looks back at me with a raised eyebrow, “When you do, you'll need a lot of practice. You're gonna poke someone's eye out if you get anything bigger than what I give you.”

  “OH COME OOONNN!!” I whine, like the teenager I am. “I've been practicing!”

I was glad I didn't need to face off the dinosaurs in my Dream cus it just ended there. It was like a sneak peek into the lives of me and Gunner. I have to say that even though it was just for a short while, I really enjoyed the depth of the relationship I had with Gunner. In the first mission, when I was younger, it looked more like a father-daughter, teacher-student sort of relationship. But as I grew older, becoming a young woman of my own, I develop more tender feelings for my guardian. Though it didn't really show that in the Dream, I was thinking of possibilities of what would happen afterwards had their future developed. Sad I didn't see any more of Puss and Dormy though. Their roles in the Dream are still a mystery.

. xenomorph .

  I find myself in the middle of a jungle-like reserve, near a homely shack which, funny enough, resembles my grandmother's house. I'm with a small group of people who were either mercenaries or bounty hunters. Though I can't remember their exact features, there were about five to seven of them, maybe five men and two women. Me excluded. I was sort of debriefing them about something serious, while small eyes watched us from inside the shack. For some reason I was the only one unarmed while everyone else had big guns and all kinds of weaponry, which was a first. In the middle of the briefing, one of them spots something large and green moving behind me. I turn and it's one of those Xenomorphs from the Alien movies, except this one was green. Its body was more of a plant, save for its oversize head. It looked like a bad combination of Alien and the venus flytrap from the Little Shop of Horrors.

  Its body was covered in large leaves and stalks and moved around using its short vines. Everyone was startled and started shooting it, but it only provoked the thing. Fortunately it moved very slowly and it gave time for us to escape. The house looked more and more like my grandmother's house, together with the fences at the sides. There was a big gap between the house and the fence, with jungle greenery in the way. It was too risky to dash to the front doors where the Alien was so the first thing I thought of was the back door. The hunters were doing fine holding the Alien off, but it was ME it was after for some damn reason!! Good thing it was slow. I headed for the back of the house, the foliage and rocks easy obstacles which slowed the Alien down. I saw the Alien move slowly through the narrow gap and I hurried to the back door. I flung inside and locked the door behind me. There were some people in the house, some looked like my cousins, which scared me since the Alien would be coming through the door any second. But since it didn't attack the mercs, I had a hunch that it wouldn't attack civilians.

  I went through the door and escaped into the front yard. The front gates were locked with a huge padlock and chains (I don't know why) so I had to climb out. As you can tell, we weren't in the jungle anymore. I was in my old neighborhood, where my grandmother lived, and I had escaped into the old streets. I didn't stop running though. I headed for the main road area and when I looked back at the gates, I saw the Alien climbing over and still headed for my direction. That was the part where I said to myself in the Dreaming, “Screw this! I'm waking up!” And just like that, my eyes spiraled upwards and the Dream unraveled like seams, mixing with images of reality. I saw bits and pieces of my bedroom ceiling in the dark, and the next minute I was phased out from the Dreaming entirely.

This was the first time I had the Alien in my Dream so I was pretty excited. The only downside to the whole thing was that I wasn't given any weapons, not like the other Dreams. The other exciting part of my experience is the phasing in between the Dreamworld and reality. I can still remember the feeling. I've only had one other experience like it, where I was hugging my pillow between my legs. Slowly, as I drifted off to sleep, it was like a half of me was still conscious. I started to feel the phase. I started to feel wind in my face, my hair blowing back and the sound of a motor running. As I sunk deeper into subconsciousness, I dreamt I was riding a motorcycle up and around a busy highway :) Besides Dreams with guns, I just love Dreams when I'm driving, especially since I can't drive in real life (yet) xppp

. air pistols .

  My persona is a police rookie straight out of a low class academy from Detroit and because it was low class, a lot of the officers didn't take me seriously. My partner was somewhat like me, but more gutsy, as if she was from Brooklyn. She had hands-on-life attitude, fiery red hair, and didn't give a rat's ass where I came from. She told me I was a good cop and so did my chief, who was a real jolly, understanding, old man, with a bushy, white mustache and suspenders. I was hardworking and dedicated, but lots of ppl still looked down on me and didn't trust my decisions.

  One case in particular tested the ppl around me to see if I had really made a breakthrough. Apparently I had a hunch, a very sensitive one, because my ends pointed at another police officer for being involved in the crime. The crime was high in corruption and politics and it would be a very sensitive accusation. This officer was a woman, and also a graduate from a prestigious cadet academy, and for some reason all my leads pointed to her.

  There was also this other officer (who looked a lot like Will Smith, so I'll call him Will). He was the star of the police force. He was funny, good looking, ace shooter on the range and he does his job well. We all looked up to him, even me. Since I was a rookie, I confided in him of my findings asking him for advice. He was calm and told me not to tell anyone else about it, and that I shouldn't do anything for now. He also said that he would do some tinkering of his own.

  What he DIDN'T know was that I was playing him. After telling my partner, Brooklyn, of Will's reaction to the whole thing and after some psychological analysis, we concluded that Will was scheming together with the female officer I had a hunch about. That and of course when we went to spy on them, we turned round the corner and they started shooting at us. There were also other shooters hiding in random places, as if I were playing Halo. What was weirder, I didn't have a gun. I was shooting with my fingers.

  If you've watched the Anime, Yu Yu Hakusho, the hero character has the power of the spirit gun, where he shoots spiritual energy just like he would out of normal pistols; cept he uses his hands. I did the same thing cept I didn't have spiritual energy. All I had was air. As funny as it sounded, it had the same effect as normal bullets. All I had to do was aim and say pow. Those I shot went down one by one, and I had pretty good aim. The last person I took down was the female officer and I jump-kicked her in the head. I saw Will and his female accomplice get taken in. The chief congratulated me on solving the case, saying he should have had more faith on my gut feelings. I was awarded a promotion, I think, but also the respect I deserved from the other police officers who looked down on me before.

I really enjoyed this Dream. It was a real underdog story, and I got to see Will Smith! Too bad he was the bad guy this time, but oh well. Now that my memory's coming back... the corrupt female officer kinda looked like Ziva David, from the NCIS show on Fox (I forgot the actress' name..)...and I jump-kicked her in the head... That's...wow.... No words for it xDDD

.: the Sleepless :.

This isn't really a new Dream, but some artsy update on an old one I now call the Sleepless. You can read the old dream here. I did these paintings a long while ago and posted them on my deviantart, but never got around to posting them here. So here are their portraits along with a short description of the character :) Enjoy~

Delucian, the calm, indifferent one. He's the personification of the illusion concept or more specifically the perceptions of the human mind. In the Dream, he seems to be up-tight and always thinking about work, the total opposite of his colleague, Nytscare. Nytscare can get on his nerves sometimes, and he can get a bit more than bossy when a job needs to be done. In truth, he has the most power in the Dreaming, having control and authority in anything and everything that goes on in the realm. The only problem he finds worth bothering about is Ensomny's mysterious origins, which he hasn't figured out yet.

Ensomny's supposed to be the personification of insomnia and in the Dream she is apparently the cause of interference with the Sleepless' line of work since. She is mute and has no emotion whatsoever, always wearing that porcelain doll-like face. Her yellow marble eyes are always open (don't think she blinks) and she communicates through her clients via psychic ability, making them speak in her place like puppets. Other than that though she's practically harmless and will stay out of your way.

Nytscare is in charge of nightmares. He loves surveying his work on the giant and multiple surveillance screens they have in their dimension. Though he looks scary, with his jagged teeth, black eyes and charcoal tongue, he's really just a joker who enjoys scaring ppl for fun. Very laid back and probably the most human-like of the three, enjoying mortal pleasures like eating popcorn. Having the ability of peering insight and to control your darkest fears, he's someone you don't want to get on the wrong side of.

. the ride home .

  This story definitely has some romantic fling in it. It's about a girl and two guys and a most cliché love triangle. My persona was the girl and I switched back and forth between persona and bystander (where I just watch the story unfold by itself) so I could take a good look at how my persona looked like. She was a very pretty, petite, ordinary, brunette girl-next-door. And because she sort of reminded me of that Rachael from Glee, I'm going to call her that. She has two very good friends, Chris and Vincent, whom just likes to be called Vinnie. Rachael basically has a crush on Chris, but Chris only sees her as a little sister, while Vinnie has a crush on Rachael.

  According to the background story, what was not shown in the Dream itself, is that Rachael had confessed to Chris before but was rejected, politely I might add. Chris explained the best he could that he only wanted to be friends. Though this was heart-breaking for Rachael, they remained friends. Rachael enjoyed their friendship, secretly hoping that Chris would like her back. While she waited, Vinnie, who is a friend of Chris but not very close, was always there to lend her his shoulder. And though she knew that Vinnie had feelings for her, she didn't want to give up on Chris.

  The drama ended on the night of a party. Rachael confronted Chris outside their friend's house, away from the party. Chris had done something to her and as painful as it was, his intentions were actually good ones. But he was still in the wrong and all he could do was apologize. Rachael was angry at him on the inside, so much that she wanted to cry. Her eyes were watery and before she left him and the party, she gave him a peck on the lips. She walks away from the house and Vinnie, who saw everything, followed her and offered to take her home.

  “Hey... I know it was really hard.. but you were strong out there. You did good.. I just want you to know that..” Vinnie comforted her and because of his kind words, Rachael broke out in tears. Vinnie cuddled her, letting her sob into his chest. They stood there less than a minute before he led her to his car. It was a silent drive and Rachael was calming down a bit. They didn't have dinner from leaving the party a little early, they stopped by a diner to eat. At the diner, Vinnie did his best to cheer Rachael up. Most of the conversation was silenced as I became the narrator but their expressions told me that Vinnie succeeded in making Rachael laugh. They had a good time. When they got back to the car, it started to rain.

  Halfway back to her house, the rain was so heavy Vinnie had to pull over, afraid he couldn't see the road through the downpour. They sat in the car and waited for the rain to lighten. They continued to talk and joke around. When it got a bit cold, Vinnie lent Rachael his coat. And before the Dream ended, fading into the darkness, the last thing I saw was Rachael's face and the way she was looking at Vinnie. She was smiling, with tenderness in her eyes; as if she finally realised that perhaps the one she loved all this time was not the one she was looking for.

It was such a sweet short story~ And I'm glad it had a happy ending~ As for what Chris did to Rachael that made her angry, it wasn't elaborated in the Dream but I'm just going to construct it according to my best guess. My guess is that after a while of seeing how much Rachael really wanted to be with him, Chris agrees to go out with her aka be her boyfriend. Unfortunately he was doing this out of pity and just leading her on, which is NEVER a smart move. In the end both sides get hurt and the friendship is either fixed awkwardly over time or it turns sour. Anyways, I think after a while of regret and forgiveness, Rachael and Chris remain good friends, together with Vinnie ^^ Yeyy!!

. 15.04.11 demon asian kid .

  I remember the beginning starts like some kind of Korean ghost/thriller movie where some colleagues, a man and three women (my persona as one of said women), are just exiting the office building after a long day's work. What's strange is as they make their way out of the office, the whole place gets dark. The corridors leading to the car-park were dark so we stood around, confused about where the doors were. One woman assumed her car would be in the other direction so she went ahead alone. I didn't want to leave her alone but the other two were headed another way. They found a door with light omitting from it so I called her, saying this was the right door. But she was lost in the dark and a door opposite opened all of a sudden, by itself. Thinking it was the right door, she went through it and the door shut behind her. I was already spooked so I went ahead with the other two.

  At the stairways, our personas changed suddenly from Korean adult colleagues to Caucasian teenagers who were exploring this part of the 'supposedly' abandoned stairway. Of course I was the paranoid one, which made the others either the bold or stupid ones. The only way to go was down and it was a long, dark way down. We went anyway and what we found below was a surprise. Could you believe an underground cybercafe sort of spot, with flat screen computers and really comfortable chairs. There were already ppl there, who looked like the usual cyber-zombies; didn't even notice us walking in. The others felt like it was an awesome, secret discovery for teens. I felt wary about the others and this one, small Asian kid that was hanging around. He wasn't playing and he was the only one who made eye-contact with us when we arrived.

  The girl wanted to try out a computer game. She sat down and automatically a window pops up, which looks to be some kind of role-playing game. The computer requests the player to make a new account. After she does, her character in the game appears and has an orange octagon symbol hovering above her head (kinda like the sims' green diamond). And after her character appears, an orange holographic octagon appears on her head too; I had a bad feeling from that. It looked as if her virtual character tied itself to her and I had some kind of hunch. “How do you pause the game?” I asked. My friends, not really amused by my un-fun, paranoid ways, just answered “You just press 'pause'.. Duuuh?”

  “I'm serious – show me how you pause, how you quit and save the game.” Giving up, my friend clicked on the window's task bar where the basic game options should be. Strangely there was no pause, quit or save button visible. After realizing this, they also thought it was strange. What was strange, and frightening to me, was that the Asian kid knew what I was up to. He had been stalking me from behind and after my hunch was proven correct, he got onto my back and jabbed something into my neck like some kind of needle. At first it hurt, at first I was scared. But after that I was just pissed. The little kid grinned at me, showing me his tiny, sharp teeth and his slant, black eyes. I just felt like punching him in the face. When we wrestled, he kept screeching in this impish, childish sort of cry which almost made my ears bleed. I punched, I slapped, pinched and almost pulled the skin off his face. It was thin like rubbery latex, and it felt like if I pulled it any further, his whole face would come off. I stopped cus the thought of seeing his flesh creeped me out more.

  Apparently those that got pulled into playing in this cursed cybercafe, your physical body would be linked with your virtual character. You had to continue sustaining your character, if not it would die. And if it died, the real person would die as well. The other teens in the cafe were too fixated in keeping their avatars alive. They had little sleep, little food and drink to eat; they couldn't leave the computers. They were tied to their virtual games until they would wither and die.  After pulling my hand away, I got a little hesitant of what to do next and how to escape with my two friends. We were closing in near to the door but the kid engulfed my whole fist into his mouth, which was excruciatingly disgusting... I managed to pull my hand out and sucker-punch the kid away. There were leeches left on my hand... for.. some reason...But after getting rid of them, we made our escape. Finally we ran out past the door and into the darkness. The rest is history.

What is up with lil kids being so creepy?? Especially in movies or games, you find that lil girls are the symbols of reputable creepiness and shit-tastic scares. Alma from the FEAR games, Ju On's lil kid son and the lil girl she was reborn into, Samara from The Ring and of course; The Omen. This might explain a bit why I don't like kids very much in real life. Not that I don't like them generally, I just don't like them when they're brats... Or when they're vicious, demon critters bent on devouring my flesh...

. 14.04.11 pool accident .

  I was at a pool party, with a whole bunch of Caucasian people that don't look at all familiar to me, but hell, I was enjoying myself. I was sitting on the edge of the pool, legs in the water, while a bunch of guys were racing nearby. The crowds cheered for the swimmers and everyone was laughing and having a great time. Then there was this one guy, in the water, who was sort of mocking me. I didn't even know who he was, but he was really bugging me, calling out to me. Even when I tried to ignore him, he started imitating my every move just for the fun of it. But that's when he really pissed me off. I couldn't take it anymore. I pushed off into the water, dashed towards him like a torpedo, and wrestled with him in the water. He was really taken by surprise. I guess he didn't know the bimbo he was teasing could get this violent. I pushed him so hard and deep into the water, his head hit against the bottom of the pool. I heard a crack!

  And that was when I realised he was almost drowning. I panicked and swam him back to the surface and dragged him on land. I yelled at people to get help. I didn't mean to hurt him so badly. I wasn't thinking. He was falling unconscious. I just hoped the concussion wasn't going to be so severe. Fortunately there was a doctor nearby. An African-American man, who looked in his late twenties, wearing a suit and he had with him a doctor's bag. We carried the guy to a safer place, let him have some air. The doctor examined the guy there and then. Soon enough, there was a thick bandage on his head and the doctor said that his concussion wasn't critical; just a really nasty bump. I was relieved. When the guy came to, I apologized deeply and hoped he could forgive me. The way he looked at me, he seemed scared and reluctant at first, but something told me, as the Dream was about the blur and end, that we became friends after that near-death experience.

Lesson learned: be careful of your violent tendencies, especially near mediums of water where people can drown or heavy hits where people can get concussions. I sincerely felt guilty for the guy when he hit his head. I had that knifed feeling in my heart that someone was going to die because of me and the guilt from that would've been unbearable in real life; I'm pretty sure I wouldn't have been able to handle it in Dreams.

. 13.04.11 super or not super .

  I'm in what appears to be a large metropolitan sort of city, like New York or Los Angelas. Skyscrapers and a forest of buildings and highways surround me, yet laid completely empty. Litter flew about, carried by occasional gusts of wind. There was no one in this huge city. Unlike sets of zombie movies, the city was deserted but not destroyed. Everything seemed in place; the people were just missing. I wandered for a while on the open road but soon found myself leaping to great heights. I had my gliding ability back. So far, throughout my lucid dreaming, I haven't been able to perfectly fly high into the skies of the Dreaming, but I've managed to jump and glide on top of tall buildings; which is what I did. What happened next was quite strange. I was standing idly atop a building when suddenly a torpedo-like bomb dropped from the sky, out of nowhere. I felt the impulse to jump off the building with the bomb, catching it gently before actually hitting the ground. I found I also had super-strength.

  To my surprise the bomb was just a dud, an empty shell. So knowing it wasn't a threat anymore, I entertained myself, throwing the bomb back into the sky, jumping again towards it, playing catch with myself. But once I got back onto the ground, my game was interrupted by hooligans on flying cars. Imagine gangs from the 50's Grease boys in flying hot-rods and Cadillacs, chasing after you at high speed. My first reaction was flight because there were too many of them and for some reason, my flying/gliding ability failed. Instead I pressed on the inside of my palm and a spiderweb shoots out; Spidey powers!! But it was short lived. After shooting just two spiderwebs and swinging off the building's sides, they didn't work anymore and I continued the run on foot. Luckily I cut a lot of sharp corners and hid behind a dumpster area where they lost me.

  After the Greasers lost my trail and I got back my breath from resting behind the dumpster, I noticed some younger kids ganging up on a single, scrawny kid not too far from where I was. My persona was still very much like myself; just an ordinary teenage girl, just a few years older than them. I was taller than them and I had the guts to go up to them checking on what they were thinking of doing. They tried to walk away, bringing the kid with them but I pulled the leader back by the shirt. He was the biggest of the group; a big, chubby, white kid with freckles and curly, ginger hair. I tugged him towards me, telling him to back off the kid. He's about to punch me, feeling insulted a girl my weight can push him around, but I take that fist of his and twist his arm round to his back. Some of his friends tried ambushing me but I saw them and kicked them away. Finally I had him in submission and his gang let the kid go. The kid got behind me as I let the leader go. I said something to him as they walked away, “You wouldn't survive out here, not even in juvie.” I taunted them, getting the better of a group of guys. Funny that I sounded like I had been in juvenile prison before.

What occurred to me, as I woke up from this Dream, is that being a hero doesn't mean you have to have super-cool powers like being able to fly, extinguish nukes or shoot spiderwebs. Being a hero means to stand up for what you think is right; to do the right thing when the time arises. This applies to the current social problem of bullying a lot of adolescents face and sadly most of those cases are treated with the Bystander effect. It's when people don't step in and do something, thinking that someone else will take that initiative –  But how many people actually get in there and help? If you had the chance to prevent traumatic childhood experiences and suicidal attempts, wouldn't you take that chance? Don't just watch. Do something. In the words of SuperChick,

“You could be a hero, heroes do what's right,

You could be a hero, you can save a life,

You could be a hero, you could join the fight,

for what's right, for what's right.”

.: that time of year again :.

Hello again my lovely, lovely folks~ 

My thoughts.

So just yesterday it was my 19th birthday :) I had a wonderful time with friends and family. Since it's still the fasting month at the moment, we celebrated by having a birthday Iftar (breaking the fast) at a Palestinian restaurant not too far from campus. Nothing fancy, nothing too loud; just a bunch of friends getting together for a humble dinner. We had fun.

Life is good. Life is treating me well, as I don't really have anything to complain about. I mean, sure, life is full of inconveniences, but I have so much more to be thankful for. A loving family, a roof over my head, food on my plate. And loads of friends, who are like gems each and every one of them. Life is good.

I know the Dreams have been updating pretty slow nowadays, and that's because of University getting in the way. Next week, I'm about to wrap up my short semester with finals, and after that I'll be home free. And when I'm not back in campus studying, I'm working my butt off on my other personal projects; my arts and stories. My greatest fear is not completing anything I start so these projects of mine are an important exercise for me to get my jobs done. I have to admit, it's been pretty difficult especially since I scrapped and re-vamped a whole comic, SUPERSTUDENTS. But I'm enjoying my comic's fresh, gritty, new look. As I compare these to the old pages, which I can't bear to look at any more (shudder), the fact that I've improved so much as an artist and storyteller is what gets me the most. 

SUPERSTUDENTS Prologue: Out of the Dark pg1

Start reading SUPERSTUDENTS now!

I love telling stories. Whether it's drawing a comic or writing fictions, the thrill of spilling out my creativity and ideas in the form of symbols, pictures and words; it's like adrenalin for me. A while back, I completed my first 'volume', you could call it, of a fiction I call Ellis In Onederland (not clever enough? sue me). It started with a series of sketches, then full-fledged pictures, till I thought to myself one day; why not write your own version of what went down the rabbit-hole? And so I did. What started off as a whimsical idea made me begin my f a i r y t a l e s project, where I'd rewrite many of the famous fables with my own twists.

Down the rabbit hole... again

The girl & the Wolf

Start reading Ellis In Onederland and Red Riding Hood: The Wolves & The Rosebud.

So far I have only finished one volume of Ellis, and is still planning the second. And I am still in the process of writing Red Riding Hood. Hopefully there will be more tales to come. With each story, I experiment and improve my writing styles and storytelling skills. The more I write, the more I develop each character and expand their worlds, delving more into their backgrounds, their stories and their hearts. I try my best to explore and differentiate characters. Now as I try my hand at drama with .: Invisible Lines :., a romantic side-story of Ellis In Onederland, I experiment writing how differently lives may twist and turn, and may not always be fictional in some aspects.

Starring the White Rabbit from Ellis In Onederland.

Start reading .: Invisible Lines :.

Another year has passed and gone for me, and I am still walking along this path laid before me. Sure it's mostly unclear and foggy, and I have no guarantee where I'll end up in a few weeks, let alone a few more years down the road. But I hope and pray for the best, that all will be well. And as I continue to work hard where I am now, slowly but surely, I'll get to where I want to be. I'll continue creating art, I'll continue studying Psychology and writing Dreams; and I will be happy in life, Insya'Allah (if God wills).

Thank you, and God bless you every one.

Love,

Dyana.

. 22.02.11 Daniel .

  At first I observe the Dream as an outsider, like watching a movie up on the screen. We're in a cavern of some sort, rocky, jagged walls surrounding us with nowhere to go but up. The atmosphere is depressing, with a horrifying amber glow permeating from the endless pits at the bottom. There are people here too but I can't remember how they look like. Suspended in the air above them, above the red, gaseous pits, was an adolescent boy. He was wrapped in what looked like thick, rough, organic rope, like vines. He was hanging vertically, his hands tied behind his back, his legs and feet bounded straight. He was sobbing quietly.

  An event took place but I wasn't there to witness it. I just saw the shadows of people leaving the rocky cavern. It was at this time my persona appeared, but I can't really tell what my physical appearance looked like. All I could tell was that I was an older woman with long (dark brown or auburn) hair. The boy was left suspended in the air, alone in the dark cavern. I could hear him sobbing, “Please... g-g-get me d-down.. Pl-ea-asee..” he whimpered.

  I grabbed the ropes and, like a pulley mechanism, lowered him down, “Don't worry Daniel, I've got you, I've got you..” I seemed to call out to him. His cries were getting louder as he got closer to the ground. I was right under him, trying to catch him at the same time lower him carefully but I lost my grip and he sort of fell onto me. Though I fell backwards on the ground, it didn't hurt at all and I had caught him in my arms. I cut through the ropes and though he was free, he couldn't move – his muscles were too weak and he was stricken with fear. I cuddle him and let him rest on my chest as he sobbed louder.

  I felt him shiver in my arms, from the cold and from fear. I felt the sweat on his head and body, through his ragged clothes. I felt his chest heave with every gasp of breath he took I glanced at his back to find strips of dark red scars and slashes through his already tattered shirt. I held his head closer to my chest, my fingers digging into his long, thick hair, “Shhh... it's over... It's over..” I tried to calm him.

  He spoke, tears choking his every word, “T-they.... they just wa-w-watched.... They.. w-watched.. T-their.... only s-s-s-son... g-get flog-g-ged.. aaa-nd.. a-and..” Flashes came into my mind, replaying the event that I didn't witness before. Before he was suspended for the public viewing, he was given countless lashes on his back; right in front of his parents. From what I could tell, his parents seemed like high and powerful authority figures who took discipline seriously. As to what Daniel did to deserve this, I have no answer. My persona seemed very close to Daniel, so much so that I felt really fond of him in a sad, nurturing sort of way. He was never shown real love before, not even from his family – and now this.

  We're still on the floor, me on my back and him lying almost on top of me in a sort of fetal position. I was cuddling his head and after I tell him to stop talking, I take his face and kiss him passionately. He seems in shock, as if he had never been kissed before, or he didn't exactly know what a kiss was. The kiss stops and I look into his crystalline eyes, still watery and stinging from the tears. I wipe his flooded cheeks and tell him with a straight face, “Daniel... I will never.. EVER abandon you. You understand? Never.” He collapses back onto my chest, holding onto me tightly. He was sobbing loudly, but he sounded relieved his torture was finally over.

There wasn't much I could tell about the characters' designs. I'm still trying to fit the puzzle pieces together but overall here's what I remember. Daniel has the look and physique of an ordinary teenage boy, like around 18, 19 or so and my persona sounded a little older, a little more mature so maybe like 20-22 years old. Daniel was rather interesting, like the rest of his people, because he had baby-blue skin and crystalline teal eyes, almost green. (Megamind much?) His hair was dark, navy blue with slivers of white on the right side of his fringe. His hair was sort of long and straight with a bit of wave to it. I can't remember anything of my persona, but I'm thinking of naming her Athena. I'll probably just make up an identity for her later on.

.: day fifteen :.

webs

spin me cobwebs of silken memories ; see them glisten in the dark of my mind.

some are perfect, while others broken ; regardless i keep them tied to me.

forever they are beautiful as well as fragile.

. 16.02.11 the wrong gender .

There were bits of pieces to this Dream but when it finally came together, it was a great idea for a story! Here's how it goes. It's set in the late 1800's and the main character is a young woman. She looks for a partner in the most unconventional way; by dressing up as a man herself. Her idea was to see if men would fall for her smarts and personality instead of her womanly figure and wealth. Because though she acted like a lower-class ruffian, she actually came from a respectable family with loads of money. But this was a different town and no one knew her and her disguise was perfect. Well, almost.

She is at a local pub and something happens, I'm unsure what exactly. Maybe she got into a fight or some older men were picking on her, actually thinking that she was really a scrawny, young boy. Being the fiesty spirit that she was, perhaps she fought back but before real chaos could ensue, she was rescued by a tall, large and rather dashing-looking man. The other men then kept away. The gentleman offered her to drink with him at the bar. He was tall, compared to her, polite and laid-back with a sense of humor. He wore a suit of pure white. He had black hair tied into a short pony tail. His skin was not too dark and not too fair either. He had an eye-patch over his right eye, and beneath it were small, partly visible burn-scars in the shape of little roses.

She was unsure why he had saved her from a possible brawl or whether he saw through her disguise but she took the offer to sit with him as he was kind enough. He said he was waiting for a friend and sure enough his friend appears from behind them. He was a burly, masculine man, slightly taller than even his friend. He was bald but he had thick black eyebrows, mustache and beard. His muscles were enormous, and they showed from his baggy, sleeveless sailor-shirt. His voice was loud and boisterous, and bellowed throughout the whole bar. It turns out he was famous in wrestling tournaments, but regardless of his intimidating size and weight, he was kind and gracious.

He put out his hand for a shake to the lady (still dressed as a boy) and when she put her hand in his, he shook it hard exclaiming something like, “This boy's as thin as a twig! I could snap you in half!” he laughed aloud. Unfortunately anything after that is very hazy to me so the Dream stops there.

If it were up to me to finish the story, here is how it would go: The gentleman (whom I've named Garrett) is looking for an assistant to help him in his workshop. He offers it to the lady (whom I'm naming Almond) and she takes it, seeing as she had a problem with unemployment. So she lives with him and spends time with him, which was troublesome seeing she still had to keep her gender a secret from him and she later realizes that she has feelings for him. This would turn out awkward since she's supposed to be playing a man. Garrett however seems to be displaying some sort of affection towards Almond, in a sense which confuses her – had Garrett discovered her secret OR was he actually interested in effeminate men?? Sergei (Garrett's wrestling friend) still doesn't know Almond's secret and thinks that Garrett's sudden attraction is disturbing. This could become a series!!!

. 15.02.11 the girl .

The surroundings remind me of my university campus – its unique, strange but beautiful architectural design and the river that stretches throughout the area – there were people there but faceless (as usual). The only people I could distinguish was a guy named Nabil, whom I work with in the university's newsletter, and a little girl, whom I've never seen before in my life. She looked caucasian, about 7-10 years old, with fair skin and light-colored eyes (though I don't remember if they were blue or brown). She was bald and was wearing a hospital gown and I remember she was quite thin. She had rosy, thin lips and a bright, innocent smile on her face.

What was so strange about this girl was that I recognized her as a really close friend of mine. I took to her like someone I was really fond of. Like a sister, but she was nowhere related to me in any way. I see her coming my way and I welcome her with open arms, hugging her tightly.

The Dream shifts and it is evening. I've been walking around the area and I realize that my two friends aren't with me. I start getting worried, especially for the little girl. I find Nabil's handphone all of a sudden and a text message from him saying that they were both locked in the freezer room. I find the room (somewhere in the campus) and unlock it. Its steel blue and frozen with ice and snow on the inside. It's a little dark but I can make out a circling staircase, that stops at the ceiling, and two figures sitting atop of it. I call out to Nabil and he stirs, his clothes covered by a thin layer of ice. The girl was climbing down the staircase and her skin was so pale, almost turning blue. I grab her first and take her out, worried that her sickness could have gotten worse. She was fine though. Just happy to see me.

Time passes and her skin starts to change. Dry sores appear on her head and face, which looked almost like bad, burnt marks but she keeps smiling as if nothing's wrong. I had a gut feeling that I wouldn't be seeing her after this so I took the moment as a farewell. I bent down and asked her to forgive me if I hadn't been able to take care of her that well. She giggles and I'm not sure if she said anything to me but it looked as if she said 'there was nothing to forgive', even as her sores were looking worse. Her smiling face made me feel better but I end up crying my eyes out.

I hug her bald head and say to her, “You're the most kind-hearted person I've ever met,” with tears in my eyes. I kiss her on her forehead and soon after that she is gone, shifting with the rest of my Dreams. I wake up with tears soaking my pillow.

I have never felt a love for a child as strongly as I had for this girl, whom I don't even know in real life. In the Dream, I felt as if I loved her with all my heart. Like a sister; like a friend; almost like a daughter even. And, unless God wills differently, I don't think I will see her again. But every time I picture her smiling face, with her bald head and little pearly whites, I will smile too.

.: day fourteen :.

picture perfect

hold me close; hold me tight

don't fidget too much darling

just a little to the right

you're beautiful baby

but why are you so shy?

you're picture perfect in my eyes

frames can't hold you

you're bigger than you know

you're a whole world to me and more

hold me close; hold me tight

cuddle close to me darling

and let me kiss you goodnight

. 29.01.11 zombie cure .

Ok, not your typical kick-ass zombie dream anymore OOOOOH NO. My Dreams HAD to get a little bit realistic. And by realistic I mean turn out in ways I didn't want them to but still expected it to otherwise. Anyhoddlyhoo, here's what happened. I'm at my old elementary school, only it still is a school and not the insurance office it was after the school shut down. There were still school kids and teachers I saw walking round and I was in the middle of the grounds minding my own business when all of a sudden the zombie apocalypse decided to happen then and there.

I didn't remember a lot of ppl being chased, cus it was weird how there were some ppl walking round casually, not fazed by the mauling or the massacre. I on the other hand was the first one to be jumped and got bitten too. On my right arm, between my wrist and elbow. I kicked the bugger away, which wasn't too hard, but now I was infected. The first thing that came to my mind was 'how am I going to draw NOW???'

Like instinct, I rushed to a place which looked like they could provide some cure for me. It wasn't some top-secret government lab or anything – just the school's main hall where these two women were hanging about. Don't remember what they look like distinctly now but I think one looked my old psychology lecturer from Foundation Studies (aaaaawkwaaaard..) but she was the one who suggested the cure. I was surprised they even HAD one. I had about 2 to 4 hours before I fully transformed so I wanted to try whatever they got.

The other woman got ready a mixture of fluids and poured a dark, aromatic liquid into a mug. She placed it in front of me. I look at it blankly and said, “This is just coffee.” The woman (who looks like my lecturer) perked up saying, “Oh just wait one second!” She reached for a shelf nearby and grabbed a hamster from a shoebox that was up there. She held the hamster like a doll, its tummy exposed and four limbs squirming. She squeezed the hamster slightly over my cup-o-Joe till. It. Pooped. They were putting frigging hamster poo in my coffee. That was the cure.

In my mind I said, 'weighing my choices I'd rather be a zombie and not be aware of eating disgusting gourmet than eating it in my right mind now...'

.: day thirteen :.

screaming

like blasts of thunder, booming in your chest.

like streaks of lightning, sharp and piercing;

yet silent.

it claws through your lungs,

scrapes at your throat;

it tries to burst past your cage of ribs,

but you won't let it escape.

you won't let it get the best of you.

you will not let them hear you.

you will not let them win,

nor smell your fear.

they will not see your blood,

nor taste your tears.

like blasts of thunder, booming yonder horizon.

like streaks of lightning, shattering the skies.

they are silent.

just

like

your

screams.